All In The Family
by AgeofLoneliness
Summary: There is no right or wrong, only what is and what isn't. Merlin's only living descendant learns the hard truth of her existence, leaving her with the obligation of traveling back to the time of Camelot where magic is outlawed and death is punishment. If this is Merlin's story, how does she fit in? Arthur/OC.


**Rewrite/Re-upload. Since my first shot at a Merlin fic wasn't doing too good I decided to rewrite it and give it another shot. This first chapter is just to introduce my OC but I promise the loveable Merlin and Arthur will make an appearance in the next chapter. Give it a chance! And please enjoy! Do leave some feedback, I'd love to hear your opinions, even if it's just to tell me it sucks or something. **

**I own nothing. Merlin is the sole property of its rightful owners of BBC~**

All In The Family

"You look celestial, love." The Irish voice was deep and suave, one that sent shivers of pleasure through any woman. Its possessor was a tall man with a muscular form, fully clothed in a fashionable blazer and dress shirt. His complexion was soft, light. His wavy brown locks cascaded smoothly down his stubble face, ending at his shoulders. He considered himself the epitome of handsome, as did others. His brown eyes lowered to the woman walking at his side, she stood at least a foot shorter. "Love the outfit. Leather really shows off that perky body of yours, so full and sumptuous."

A hint of a smirk adorned the young woman's ruby red lips. She restrained the urge to roll her eyes. If she hadn't known he pitched for the other team… she shook the thought away chuckling softly, ah men. It really was a bit of a shame she had no chance. The again, it wasn't like her to be unprofessional. And it was against protocol and frowned upon for coworkers to date; Tacky as well.

Passing a pair of young men she felt their lingering stares and caught some of their comments. This time she allowed the eye roll. She wore a two piece metallic criss- cross cat suit, equipped with a studded belt. Her supple breasts were exposed along with her back and midriff. Her complexion was a light shade, almost twinkling under the night lights of New York City. The brightness of the city reflected the cerulean of her eyes, shaded and magnified by pristine make-up. She bore a small tattoo of a star on her right cheek, just below her eye. Her sleek midnight hair hung in a high ponytail.

"Do I have to look like a high class hooker?" she complained once she knew they were out of earshot, looking down to herself, "I hate all this get- up." Her reply was a simple, "We were going for dominatrix, and it's what he likes." She shook her head, groaning with disgust. "Ugh, why can't you be the one to go back in that room?"

A dashing smile curled the man's lips. "I would darling, but I don't think Thatcher would enjoy me in a thong as much as he would you." She scoffed, giving a second eye roll. "Sick, Gwaine, real sick." She nudged his side rather harshly with her elbow. His chuckle bubbled deep in his throat. "What can I say Lyn, I am a man."

"You're also my partner, so ease up on the comments. The whole squad's going to think we're sleeping with each other." It was Gwaine's turn to scoff and give the eye roll. "They can think what they want. You and I know the truth." He stopped then, turning to face her. "Now, give me a quick review. Who's the target?"

Lyn took a quick breath. "William Thatcher, 25 years old, typical bachelor, filthy rich. He's believed to be the ringleader of the group selling drugs to the college students down at NYU. After some surveillance we've confirmed his status as so."

"Good. What's tonight's objective?"

She took another short breath, "Arrest Thatcher."

"Good." With a firm nod, Gwaine continued his trek. Lyn hurried after. "I don't understand why I have to seduce him, it feels so low. I was already undercover at the university; couldn't I just pretend to buy drugs? That seems much simpler."

Gwaine chuckled shaking his head, "That's what I love about you rookies, you think the simplest way is the only way to go. Thatcher never shows his face where his dealers work. We want Thatcher and the best way to get him," He set his gaze on the young woman, "Is to deliver the goods." Lyn sighed wearily, "Alright."

The pair fell silent as they came to their destination. Lyn looked upon the dark broody building, noting the boarded windows and indigent state. Most would think it abandoned, vacant, but the many weeks spent on observation told otherwise in what concluded it was all but a ruse. The building housed quite the infamous organization. One by the name of Club M, an invitation only access club; Known for its ability to accommodate for the darker sexual appetites. The clientele ranged from well-known business men to the more sleazy upstarts that lurked the shady parts of New York, selling anything from drugs to people.

Bringing the silence to an end, Gwaine spoke, "We know this is where Thatcher likes to spend his weekends" He looked to his partner, worry in his eyes. "Are you ready?" Lyn swallowed as her levels of anxiety rose tenfold. Could she do this? It would be her biggest arrest since joining the force two years ago.

"Lyn!" Gwaine called bringing her from her thoughts. He leaned close as he clasped her shoulders. "I chose you for this assignment because I believe in you and your… abilities, but if you feel you can't do this-"

"I-I can" she interjected, voice sounding dubious. Gwaine knitted his brows, concern etched on his face. "Are you sure?" She nodded her head, more to convince herself, "Yeah, yeah." He moved then, "Alright, let's go."

He took her hand, insinuating they were a couple for any possible lurking eyes, and led her across the street. She looked upon the building with reluctance, her heat beat thrumming in her ears. She took quiet shaky breaths. This was it. This would be her moment. No going back from it now. Her mind quickly reviewed the objective; seduce the target, get a confession, and make an arrest. She could do it. She could it.

A gusting wind had the pair stopping abruptly in their steps, the force so strong, so fierce. Letting go of Gwaine's hand Lyn stumbled back, eyes shut as she grunted from the stinging pain. She called out after a groan, "Gwaine!"

Her actions were futile; the wind carried her voice away. The gust pressed on enveloping her with such a weight. She shrank from the vigor of it, dropping to her knees and shielding herself with her arms as best she could.

A pressure befell her making her gasp as she struggled to catch breath. There was an immense power trickling in waves and crashing onto her, nearly suffocating. Tendrils of power emerged from within her flowing above and encircling.

Her eyes opened in response revealing the golden hue. It felt as if her magic, her essence, had taken a mind, a life, of its own. Around her the setting began to change, the buildings and streets vanishing, fading from view. And then, as quickly as it had come it was gone, magic and gusting winds alike.

Inhaling sharply, Lyn coughed placing herself on her hands and knees. Her eyes returned to their normal blue as she panted. What the hell had happened? Her body shook in response to the sudden trauma. The power… the sheer power… she had never felt such magic. It was raw, potent, yet possessed a warm inviting grace as if it had really come from her.

Pulling herself together, Lyn groaned, her brows furrowing as she took in the sand beneath her. Sand? What? She lifted her head, face dropping in confusion. What was she doing on the banks of a lake? She glanced about. Where were the buildings? Where were the streets? Where was the club?

She gasped, eyes widening. Gwaine! Where was Gwaine?! She shot up to her feet, staggering as her boots sank into the sand. "Gwaine?!" she called. There was no answer. She looked more and more, head practically spinning. It didn't seem as if a soul resided here. There was nothing but sand and water.

Where could he be? How was this even possible? She couldn't teleport, she had never mastered it. She called again, voice cracking as she raised the volume, "Gwaine?!" She walked, her legs feeling like jelly while the rest of her body grew heavy with a sense of lethargy. What was going on? Why was she even here?

She stopped then, a sense of trepidation flooding through her, sending thousands of pricks down her spine. Her magic was reacting vividly. Something was here. She scanned the vicinity in front her of vigorously. What?

"_Hello Merlyn." _

Lyn stopped cold, tensing at the sudden voice. It was raspy, deep yet sounding ancient and wise. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned reluctantly slow. Her eyes widened in horror, mouth dropping open. Before her stood a massive golden quadruped creature with large wings, covered in scales.

A scream of terror escaped her throat as she fell on her backside onto the sand. It couldn't be real! A dragon! An actual dragon stood before her! It couldn't be real! "Holy shit!" she cried as she crawled back in a panic. A ball of fire formed in the midst of her palm; one which she threw with precise aim. Her brows furrowed in misunderstanding as she watched it pass through the creature as if it were transparent. "What the hell?"

She whimpered as the dragon leaned its head in close. She could feel the intensity of its gaze. _"Do be calm" _It said, _"I mean you no harm."_ It-it really did speak! Again, Lyn threw a fire ball and again it passed through.

The dragon moved back, looking upon her with such casualness as if he had known her all her life, like old friends. It grinned in amusement. _"I am not physically here, young one. You cannot hurt me."_

"T-then how…?"

"_A rift in the magical veil." _

A rift? Lyn mused over its words, if it's just peering through… "Y-you're using astral projection?"

"_As you can." _The creature's grin faded. _"Unfortunately I cannot do it at will, as you. It is taking a rather large amount of magic."_ He scrutinized her. _"I can see you have many questions, but there is not much time. The connection is weakening." _

Lyn shook her head, exhaling shortly. "This is crazy. This can't be happening. I can't be talking to a dragon."

"_But you are and it is happening, young witch. The magic within you has answered my call. That can only mean one thing; you are ready to fulfill your purpose. Protecting the greatest warlock to ever exist, Merlin." _

At this Lyn lifted her head, brow quirked in question, "Merlin? You mean the wizard from the old Arthurian legends? He's real?" The dragon chuckled, its gaze soft. _"But of course. You are his descendant. Like him, you are a creature of old magic." _

Lyn blinked. What? Had she heard right? She was descended from magic? Not just any magic but the greatest magic to ever exist according to the legends? She stared in silence for several seconds before bursting with incredulous laughter, her head tilting back. The dragon's facial expression set and hardened, eyes narrowed. Clearly he did not appreciate her behavior. _"This is no laughing matter!" _He boomed suddenly, cutting her laughter short. He continued, his voice stern, _"It cannot be denied any longer. You must take heed!" _

The witch grew angry then, unappreciative of the yelling. Finding courage deep within, she shouted. "Hey!" She rose to her feet. "I don't have to do anything! I may not have read the books but if I remember correctly from what I've heard, Merlin is the one with the destiny! He's the one who aids King Arthur and unites Albion!"

A solemn look comes over the dragon. _"I am afraid it will not be for long."_ Its voice was troubled. What did that mean? "W-what do you mean?" she queried, voice low and anger forgotten. "Did he die or something?"

The creature closed its eyes looking pained. _"Not yet. I have glimpsed into the future, your present. Arthur rises from the grave as was foretold except there is no great warlock in this existence to join his side. I can only conclude Merlin loses his life before this happens."_

If that was true then Merlin was supposed to live for over a thousand years. Which meant he was immortal, didn't it? Lyn furrowed her brows in question. "If he's not immortal like I think the story says, then doesn't that mean it's my time to like, take over? You said I was his descendant. Maybe I'm supposed to be next in line for Arthur." The dragon shook its head, denying the idea itself. "_You are not. The great warlock's blood may run through your veins but you do not share his destiny. Your existence is solely for his protection-"_

"Hold on," Lyn interrupted, "Are you saying I only exist for him? That can't be right."

"_There is no right or wrong, only what is and what isn't."_

"So what, magic made a mistake with me? Is that it?"

He chuckled suddenly, the graveness in his face lifting, _"No, young one. You are Albion's last hope. Being of his blood, you can help reconstitute the legend." _

Lyn was silent as her brain made attempts to connect the dots and make sense of everything. "But… if the legends are true, then… that would make the United Kingdom, Albion which means it exists now…" she groaned in irritation. "This doesn't make sense! If Merlin is going to die then I shouldn't exist-"

She stopped suddenly as a new thought formed, the lightbulb atop her head flashing bright. His blood… the magical universe must have known of Merlin's premature death… which means it must have had him continue the bloodline… that's why she exists…

"Oh" she spoke, "I get it now."

"_You must travel back to the time of Camelot and ensure of your ancestor's survival" _the dragon said, moving the conversation forward for time was falling really short.

"What if I don't? What if I fail?"

"_I fear you will surely meet your demise and your existence and all you know will cease to be." _

Well that was quite frank. No attempts of subtlety were even made. Lyn swallowed. Were those really her only options? Keep this Merlin alive or risk her future and possibly those of who she knew? She had always believed her destiny was to become something great, something of importance. But now to find out she was just an expendable asset… that hardly seemed fair.

As if reading her thoughts, the dragon spoke. _"You should not think of yourself in such a way, young witch. You may be just as important, it is simply Merlin's life is worth twice as much as yours." _

Lyn shook her head, face dropping in a frown, "Yeah, not helping." Life really wasn't fair, was it? She exhaled, "Why not just tell Merlin of his destiny? I'm sure if he knew he'd take more precaution."

"_He cannot know of his destiny, he cannot glimpse his part in the great story. Like everyone, he must live and learn." _

She scoffed, eyes rolling, "Yeah that's convenient." Only she could know. Only she had to carry the weight and burden of knowing what could happen. Oh, there's no pressure. No pressure at all.

A deep rumble sounded then, waves crashing loudly. Lyn turned round toward the lake. The once calm still water now roared with ferocity, as if angered. She narrowed her eyes to focus her sight. "Is that… a maelstrom?" The dragon spared a glance. _"It is a portal. It shall close soon, you must hurry." _

She looked to the creature, meeting its gaze. "You can't expect me to accept all of this and leave my life behind, everything and everyone I know. What about Gwaine? My friends?" She received no reply. The dragon merely stared.

She viewed the lake longingly once more. If she didn't do what was needed, would there really be nothing, no life, no future? Was it even worth risking? Could she really leave it all behind? Did she really have a choice? She came to realize something then, if this was all a part of magic's plan from the beginning, was anything of her life ever real?

"_The portal is closing, young witch" _the dragon spoke, bringing her out of her glooming thoughts. Lyn sighed wearily. What the hell, why not? "Yeah alright" she said with complete lack of enthusiasm. The dragon nodded its head once, a look of gratitude crossing his features. _"The magical universe thanks you, young one." _She gave a laugh of indifference. Yes, of course it did.

_"Simply step into the water. Magic shall do the rest." _

Lyn nodded and stepped forth, stopping before reaching the water. She bent forward, reaching into her boots where she retracted her NYPD badge and gun. She wouldn't need those where she was going. Tossing them aside, she swallowed, hands curling into fists as she stepped into the water. Her heart pounded fiercely, hammering against her chest as she descended deeper.

She inhaled sharply, pins and needles settling over her as the freezing cold water touched her legs. Heavy breaths escaped her throat. She groaned in protest, pushing further as she went deeper and deeper. This is it. No going back now. With the water reaching past her waist, she gave a final glance back toward the shore. The dragon was gone, and soon so was she.

**So, is it bad? Okay? Good? Go on and let me know, I won't bite. **


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